


What The Oath Rod Does

by Johmega



Series: How It Might Go [3]
Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:13:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29842035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johmega/pseuds/Johmega
Summary: In which Fortuona makes a grave mistake.
Relationships: Mat Cauthon/Fortuona Athaem Devi Paendrag, Rand al'Thor/Aviendha
Series: How It Might Go [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194077
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	What The Oath Rod Does

Fortuona Athaem Devi Paendrag, Empress of the Seanchan Empire -may she live forever - sat on the Crystal Throne, listening patiently to Knotai explain his battle plan for the capture of yet another rebel city. She grimaced at the thought of that. After the death of the former Empress along with the _entire Imperial Family_ , the homeland had been thrown into indescribable chaos. Dozens of factions had vied for control of Seandar alone, and from what she had heard, few if any managed to keep the city for more than a week or two. Of course, she and her army held the city now; it had been their first target upon crossing the Aryth Ocean through those gateways that _marath’damane_ from the white Tower had provided. Not that she’d had a choice, of course. 

Surprisingly, upon catching a glance of her in a hall, Darbinda had been able to provide the former name of that particular _damane_ : Elaida do Avriny a'Roihan, the Amyrlin Seat who preceded that brat Egwene Al’Vere. When the Empress learned of this, she very nearly took her as one of her own _damane_ , but Suffa - as she was called now - was already acting nearly as well as a Seandar-born _damane_ ; and the sul’dam who’d captured her in the raid had done enough to deserve such a prize, though she did not know it. So in the end, she decided against taking that action. 

Darbinda, now there was a real prize: a Doomseer. One who could see the omens had not been heard of for centuries, there had not been one to serve the Empress since Luthairs rule. Today Darbinda was, as always, lounging in her seat beside Selucia, calm as always. After three years of being Fortuonas Doomseer, she’d soon gotten over what she had thought were strange customs and habits. There was an empty chair to her left, where Knotai would be sitting, were he not at the table pushing figures around and speaking far too quickly. He always talked too fast, but she and the generals had learnt to deal with it if they were to rely on his wild gambits. The Empress, on a whim, glanced out the window. Rain, with not a cloud in sight. Someone was coming. 

He was in the middle of discussing his plan to capture the city with as few unnecessary casualties as possible when Darbinda drew in a sharp breath. Looking over to her, Fortuona saw that her eyes were wide with surprise, and maybe a touch of fear. Very wide. Definitely with fear, and more than a touch. “He’s angry. He hasn’t been this angry since…” she trailed off, muttering to herself. The Empress narrowed her eyes. “Doomseer. Who is angry? Speak,” she demanded - no, she asked. One did not command the Doomseer to speak her mind, even the Empress herself. That had been established early on. After some all-encompassing silence - for the entire throne room had fallen silent at Fortuonas words - Darbinda replied, “It’s nothing, you needn’t worry about him.” steadily. Too steadily. She was definitely fearful of whatever had just happened. A moment later, a messenger approached Selucia. An owl flew in through an open window high in the hall, perched on one of the several bejeweled chandeliers, and hooted once. Twice, she tensed. Thrice, she relaxed. Two hoots from an owl meant death. With a start she realized she’d ignored that the owl had flown _into the throne room itself_ while the sun was up, and it had not moved from its spot. Not only was someone coming, but there were choices to be made. Terrible ones. For all of these omens to appear so soon after another, something truly momentous was about to happen. 

After the room collected themselves, the messenger continued, “There has been a battle with a small Aiel Enforcer army, and as per the orders of the Empress - may she live forever - a number of Aiel _marath’damane_ have been collared,” was the news he had to bring. While she had given the order, somehow neither Knotai nor Darbinda knew of it, as became apparent: both of them immediately twisted around and gave Fortuona looks that were somehow both sternly disapproving and utterly shocked. “Among them was the Aiel Wise One known as Aviendha, who is known to have been the one who asked to give the Aiel their current role in The Dragons’ Peace treaty,” the messenger continued, he bowed deeply, and left the room, having delivered all that needed to be delivered. Hearing this, Darbindas eyes truly bulged in horror. “WHAT!? THAT'S why he’s so mad? Fortuona, what have you done?” she very nearly screamed. Her eyes grew wider and her face paled. She whispered, “Oh Light he's here.” 

“Darbinda. Answer me. Now. WHO is here?” Fortuona demanded. Pleasantries were relics of a bygone Age. Whoever this man was, he seemed important, and dangerous. He was the visitor. He had to be. She had to know who he was immediately. A tiny smirk appeared through the mask of pure fright on the Doomseers face. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll find out soon enough,” she replied quietly, and with even faster speech than usual. At that, a quite clearly panicking sul’dam sprinted up to the throne, and - speaking directly to her! - said between panting breaths, “A man just appeared outside the keep, he will be here in minutes. There was no gateway we could see, he simply popped in outside the walls. We don't know who he’s or why he’s here but every weave we throw at him dissipates into nothing a few feet from him and the gate to the keep just opened in front of him and the soldiers who go to stop him get thrown out of his way,” the sul’dam knelt down on the floor, short of breath. Light, she was speaking almost as fast as Knotai did! After catching her breath, the sul’dam continued, speaking even faster now: “whoever he is he's unstoppable and coming straight for the throne room he's coming for you Empress I know it!” Just as soon as she finished her trembling speech, the tremendous doors to the throne _flew_ off their hinges and smashed to pieces on the wall behind the Crystal Throne. 

A lone, simply dressed man stood beyond the wide entry. Quite the handsome man, the Empress admitted, though nothing on her dear Knotai. Tall, with long black hair and striking blue eyes, the man calmly walked across the length of the room, the war table and all of its occupants moved gently off to the side by an unseen hand. His eyes fixed glaringly upon hers, and when he finally reached the pedestal the Throne sat on, Fortuona found herself thrown forward. His arm raised, hand gripping her throat and lifted her up and off the floor. “Who-” she began to question, but the man cut her off. His voice was _cold_ , completely detached, unnervingly calm. “Fortuona Athaem Devi Paendrag, the Empress of the Seanchan Empire, you have knowingly broken the Dragons’ Peace.” She cut him off, saying “the Empress does not have to-” he squeezed tighter, completely choking her. Her eyes taking in the room, she saw that the rest of the throne room stood there motionless, even Knotai, even the Deathwatch Guards that had once surrounded her. _When did they abandon their guard?_ She wondered. The man scowled. “I’m well aware. However, since the threat of Aiel interference doesn’t seem to be enough to keep you in line, I have been forced to step in directly. For the first time in three years, I have broken my oath to not interfere with the inner workings of any nation, even yours. Especially yours.” He set her back down onto the Crystal Throne, and she found herself unable to move, except to speak those three words. 

“Who are you?”

An air of quiet, somehow more oppressive than before, fell across the room. Several seconds passed until, finally, Darbinda spoke with out-of-place steadiness, confidence, and awe. Fortuonas horror grew with every word. “He is the Car’a’carn, chief of chiefs of the Aiel. He is the Coramoor, the Atha’an Miere’s prophesied saviour. He is He Who Comes With the Dawn, the one prophesied by the Aiel to unite them and lead them across the Dragonwall. The wolves call him Shadowkiller. He was at one point the King of Illian. He was once called Lord of the Morning, Prince of the Dawn, First Among Servants, Commander of the Armies of the Light during the War of the Shadow. He was once called Kinslayer.” That last title seemed choked out of her. The man, although she knew very well who he was now, finished. “I am Rand Al’thor, once called the Dragon Reborn,” Rand’s face was now quivering in rage, “and you have collared my wife!” 

The Deathwatch Guards finally got ahold of themselves, and rushed with swords drawn at the Dragon Reborn. The Dragon Reborn! He was supposed to be dead! How in the name of Artur Hawkwing himself was he not only _still alive_ , but _standing right before her_? How had he reacted so quickly to his wife, who could only be this Avhiendha, being collared, when Fortuona herself had heard of it mere minutes before he had arrived? She was absolutely reeling in confusion at everything that had just happened, but on noticing that Rand was in fact, not driven through by a dozen different blades, her mind was filled with naught but shock. They were mere inches away from slicing into him, Deathwatch Guards obviously putting their all behind the steel, yet they were entirely still. He snapped his fingers, and the swords dissolved into dust at the same instant that all the Guards were thrown back against the walls. “Min, Mat, I’m sorry but I can’t really talk with you right now. I have more important matters to attend to at the moment. I will be back to catch up, don't worry.” With that, he grabbed onto her hand, and the familiar interior of the throne room swirled and faded before her eyes. 

When reality came back into focus, she didn't know how long it took, the Dragon Reborns hand was once again around her neck. Her eyes widened. She couldn’t feel the ground beneath her feet. Of course, in this situation that was to be expected, but what scared her more was what she saw behind the man. She saw an utterly enormous, dangerously sharp drop down into a long, seemingly never-ending stretch of plains. She was on a mountain, a very steep and tall one. A white mass was visible in the distance, surrounded by a split river. Tar Valon. Fortuona tried and failed to calm herself. “Ah, so you know where we are. Good,” Rand uttered in what was obviously barely suppressed anger. “Then I shouldn’t have to explain to you the significance of me dangling you by the neck off the peak of this particular mountain.” To emphasize just how much she was at his mercy, he _shook_ her a little. “Rand, please, stop this. Whatever you want. I’ll do it. Just, put. Me. Down,” she half demanded, half begged. 

His eyebrows went up. “I wasn’t expecting you to cave that easily. What I want is simple-” “I know what you want. You want your wife, Aviendha, uncollared.” Several seconds passed until he replied, “took the words right out of my mouth. Almost. I want more than that. You will uncollar all the Aiel you captured in that fight. Not only that, you will never do anything like that again. As long as I live - which, I assure you, will be a _very_ long time - you will not break the Dragons’ Peace. You will not collar any woman who can channel.” He paused briefly, looking thoughtful past his still-furious visage. She wanted to slap him, so very much. But that could end with her being dropped off the side of Dragonmount. She certainly didn’t want that. It was madness for _anyone_ to demand this much of the Empress! “Actually, extend that to any men who can channel as well. I know that you Seanchan have a copy of the Domination Band, and the ability to make more. Your current _damane_ , including those you collared before signing the Dragons’ Peace, may remain collared. They wont last more than a thousand years anyway, and I’m sure you know of the sul’dams true nature by now, so...” The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he continued, rage almost gone from his face, “Actually, there is one _damane_ that you should keep a particularly close eye on. A sul’dam by the name of Shanan captured a rogue channeler not long after the Last Battle. That was actually one of the Forsaken.” 

And she thought her eyes couldn’t go any wider! They’d captured one of the Forsaken? He continued, “Specifically, you’ve captured Moghedien. She’s a schemer, that one. I’d bet against Mat that she’s brewing up some scheme with some Darkfriend sul’dam in your ranks. Don’t be surprised, they’re everywhere.” Surprised she was not, she begrudgingly told him about Suroth, a member of the High Blood - the High Blood! - who had been a Darkfriend since long before joining the Hailene. “So you’ve had your own encounters with the Atha'an Shadar, as they call themselves. I would, in your position, execute Moghedien for all that she has done. I’m sure given time, she’ll get free somehow.” He set her down onto the peak of Dragonmount, and a Fortuona let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Now,” he sighed, “this is the part that will really take some time.” He reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a white rod that was a foot long, inscribed with the number three on the end of it. “Do you recognize this?”

She shook her head. “No? Well, it is the reason none of your Aes Sedai _damane_ can fight. It is the Oath Rod: the thing that Accepted swear upon to ‘speak no word that is not true, to make no weapon with which one man may kill another, and to never use the One Power as a weapon except against Darkfriends or Shadowspawn, or in the last extreme defense of her life, the life of her Warder, or another Aes Sedai.’” Fortuonas eyes widened slightly. Again. There was only one place the Dragon Reborn could be going with this. “Oaths sworn upon this are unbreakable, except by swearing off all oaths on this very same rod. I hear the experience is rather painful.” She cut him off, saying, “I know where you’re going with this, you fool. You want me to make an oath not to allow the capturing of channelers this side of the ocean,” she questioned sternly. “Well, yes that's part of it. I also want you to swear to uncollar any and all channelers that may get accidentally collared against your will. But when I said ‘this is the part that will really take some time’, I was referring to the fact that you will have to channel to bind yourself to that promise.” This time, Fortuona didn’t stop herself from slapping him. 

Rand backed as far away as he could on the actually quite small peak, rubbing his cheek. “Okay, I totally saw that one coming,” he said with a slight smile on his face. Said smile disappeared rapidly. “Back to serious matters. If you do not agree to go to the White Tower, and learn how to channel enough to swear on the Oath Rod, every time you ‘accidentally’ collar any channeler this side of the ocean you will have a repeat of this experience. I know you Seanchan have as strong a sense of honor as the Aiel, so I would honestly doubt you’ll actually break a promise. However, you signed the Dragons’ Peace, and broke it, so I have been forced to come up with this alternative. I know you don’t like admitting to the fact that you can learn to channel. I know you will not like actually _learning_ to channel,” the Dragon Reborn did not know how much he underestimated her repulsion, “which is why I’m giving you a choice. You can either: hold yourself to the Dragons' Peace by your own will, while constantly living under my watch; or learn to channel, and admit the true nature of sul’dam to all of Seanchan.” With that, he threw the Oath Rod into her hands, and vanished into the air. Leaving her there, with the Oath Rod, to think. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> About Rand: basically he can warp the real world as if it were tel'aran'rhiod. There's more to it than that (i.e. limits i put on him for Reasons), but those will come later. 
> 
> Special thanks to Zorpisuttle for beta-ing this fic! She is also the beta-reader for almost every fic I'll be posting here, but I'll continue to mention that in the post-fic notes lol.


End file.
